


open wide

by Moransroar



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Little Red Riding Hood Fusion, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Blood and Gore, Broken Bones, Dark Tony Stark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Description, Guro, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Major Character Injury, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serious Injuries, Sexual Violence, Vore, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves, is it though - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: The woods were familiar, the trail still visible with the light of the moon overhead. He’d grown up in that forest, was born and raised right there among those trees, and had always felt safe there.But what he didn’t know, was that recently a new creature had taken residence there, and silently trailed after Peter as the boy carried his little basket, void of treats now that he’d dropped them off on the other end of the narrow path, humming to keep himself company in the quiet of the woods at night.If only he’d listened a little more closely.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 87
Collections: Starker Festivals Events





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**Author's Note:**

> This was made/written for the Starker Summer Bingo, with the moodboard for the 'Red Riding Hood AU' square and the fic to fill the 'vore' square. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER (and spoiler I guess): this fic contains hard vore. None of that 'I swallow you whole and everything's technically fine' vore. Peter gets literally eaten alive. Gruesomely. That said, enjoy ;)

* * *

The first time a twig snapped behind him, Peter didn’t even flinch.

The woods were familiar, the trail still visible with the light of the moon overhead. He’d grown up in that forest, was born and raised right there among those trees, and had always felt safe there.

But what he didn’t know, was that recently a new creature had taken residence there, and silently trailed after Peter as the boy carried his little basket, void of treats now that he’d dropped them off on the other end of the narrow path, humming to keep himself company in the quiet of the woods at night.

If only he’d listened a little more closely.

The bushes rustled, and although Peter looked up, he was quick to shrug it off as anything but the wind blowing through the trees. He didn’t think of a large creature with shining red eyes taking in the scent of something young and sweet, and preparing to pounce. He didn’t think of it crawling closer, staying hidden in the dark, but never straying too far.

Another twig snapped, this time much closer, and Peter’s heart gave a little jump. He’d not expected it to be so nearby. Usually when a sound like that emitted, it was from somewhere far away, from a squirrel making haste toward their nest, or a rabbit hopping through the underbrush.

This was something very different though. Very different indeed. But Peter didn’t have the time to contemplate what it was.

Suddenly, a few heavy footsteps, thumping on the dirt, lasting only a second before Peter found himself flying forward with a rough blow to his back. Pain exploded across his spine before he even hit the ground, teeth digging hard into the damp mud as he landed face first. He sputtered, and pushed himself up, but whatever had sent him flying was on his back faster than he could get to his feet.

It panted in his ear, hot and humid and something awful.

Peter tried to scream, but the sound cut off when even taking in a deep pull of air had his spine protesting painfully, leaving him gasping futilely for oxygen. Not to mention there were claws, keeping him down, forcing him to stay right where he was. The pressure on his back alone could have snapped him in half, and while he was grateful that didn’t happen, that weight on his ribs and subsequently his lungs wasn’t just a little bit uncomfortable.

Peter struggled, but couldn’t go far. He let out desperate pants, which was all he really could as the air steadily left his lungs and threatened to render him unconscious.

But then one claw lifted, which eased the pressure. Peter heaved. Only one paw remained, and as it smoothed down his back he could feel its nails, on the verge of sinking sharply into his skin if he moved even a single inch. The claw took his clothes with it, his cape tugging at the string around his neck and constricting it painfully until it finally tore and left Peter coughing once more.

He felt the cold night chill touch his bare back once the creature was done. Despite the urge to try and cover himself up, Peter didn’t even get the chance to. There was that claw again, this time on one of his shoulders, nearly crushing bone beneath its grip.

A wet nose, sniffing, like a dog’s, large and inquisitive, tickling wherever it went. Peter whimpered. This was no dog. He could tell. Dogs weren’t quite this large. Hell, even wolves weren’t this big, and he hadn’t seen them in the area for ages. It dawned on the boy that this had to be something else. And while wolves and rabid dogs could be dangerous, he feared that this was something he needed to be scared of much more than any other canines.

The way it growled low in his ear had Peter shivering, fear tickling up his spine and leaving him crippled in its wake. Not like he could have done anything if he’d wanted to – the beast had well and truly overpowered him.

That chilly, wet nose drifted lower, from the back of his neck down his spine, across more exposed skin. Peter jolted when it pressed right up to the cleft of his ass, but again, there was nowhere for him to go.

Peter soon came to find out that the creature’s tongue was long and broad and rough, like it was meant to be able to lick meat off the very bone of the beast’s prey, when the warm thing pressed wetly against his hole.

“N-hah!” Peter managed to get out, but that was about as far as he could get. His priority right now was saving his breath, as it was still on the verge of rapidly running out if he didn’t keep it under control as carefully as he could.

It was an incredible task. The creature’s tongue pushed into him, and Peter’s eyes watered, but he wouldn’t scream. Save your breath. Save your breath. _Save your breath._

It didn’t last long.

What lasted much longer was the torture that followed.

The animal seemed to grow impatient with the lapping very quickly, and moved on to something more exciting. It heaved itself up, effectively pressing Peter down into the mud all the more, before the boy could feel the thing behind him move. Frantically, hips stuttering out of Peter’s view, looking to bury its massive, slowly unsheathing cock into Peter’s unprepared body.

And the wolf did so with little issue. It lined up its barely unsheathed cock against the hole he’d discovered with a few licks of his tongue, and forced its full length out of hiding and into Peter in one, firm thrust.

It knocked a scream out of Peter, which earned him a shove, his shoulder protesting beneath the weight of the creature’s paw. So far, the beast had been considerably gentle with his catch. But the second he started rocking into Peter, the boy knew that whatever caution it had taken before was now completely out the window.

White hot pain swarmed him, exploding somewhere between his spine and his belly button as the creature forced its large, pointed cock into him again and again, completely disregarding the fact that Peter’s insides were intricately put together, and delicate – prone to tearing under immense pressure.

And immense pressure it received.

Peter absently noticed a warmth start to drip across his balls and down his thigh, originating from where the creature’s cock pushed viciously against his inner walls again and again, punching in and out of him and showing no signs of stopping. Not yet, at least. Not until Peter could feel the beginnings of _something_ grow at the base of the animal’s cock, something large and unforgiving, which the monster shoved against Peter’s already overstretched and abused hole.

It growled when it couldn’t get it into the boy, who practically folded in two with the force of the aggressive thrusts now, spine screaming at him.

Peter’s vision swam when the wolf reached its peak, giving one last spine-crushing plunge and not giving in until the enormous swelling breached Peter and had the boy crying out as he felt his skin tear with it, barely contrasting the injury now inflicted upon his back, which gave pathetically under the pressure.

Crippling cramps spread across his lower back, the wolf’s claw digging into the flesh of his shoulder as it lifted its head toward the sky and howled in success while Peter lay there struggling to stay conscious.

Slowly, Peter started losing feeling in his legs. First, they tingled where they half dangled behind himself, spread uselessly across the dirty ground. He couldn’t move them, no matter how hard he tried, not even to pull his thighs together in the hopes of easing some of the torment between his legs. They lay there, and continued to lay there – and would continue to lay there until the wolf was finally done with him

Peter’s face was wet with tears. The creature hadn’t moved yet, but Peter could feel it inside of him, spreading its warmth across his ruined insides. Peter didn’t want to think about where it was going to end up now, or he might have gotten sick.

For a short while, the claw on Peter’s shoulder eased. Not its pressure, but the sharpness in his flesh. When those razor-like nails returned and the creature stopped panting, Peter knew that his short break was over.

And sure enough, it started pulling.

Peter couldn’t dig his toes into the dirt, couldn’t struggle against the pushing and pulling and growling in his ear, so he just lay there, eyes squeezed shut as the creature pulled its still fully inflated knot out of him, effectively pulling his spine straight again – but it didn’t feel any better for it.

The beast wasn’t done with him yet. Before Peter could catch his breath and dig his hands into the ground to try and start pulling himself away, it was on him again. He’d thought that maybe the wolf was tired now, sated, satisfied, and done with him. Maybe it would let him go if he made himself scarce, and he could crawl his way back home, where the village witch might be able to take a look at his back and see if she could fix him.

But god, he didn’t feel like this was something anyone could fix. Not even the witch.

Having lost feeling in his legs, Peter didn’t notice when the wolf bit down on his thigh until it violently yanked him back towards it.

Peter cried out as he went – but the sound was soon muffled. The beast showed a flash of large, enormous teeth, already coated in Peter’s blood as it had started oozing from his leg, maw opening wide, and closing viciously on Peter’s side.

The boy’s cries cut off abruptly at the feeling of sharp fangs tearing into his skin, sinking into the tender flesh of his delicate flank. Peter could feel the wolf’s strength as its jaws clamped down. He should have expected it would be hungry after all of that. He should have seen it coming. He should have crawled quicker.

Peter’s mouth filled with blood and he coughed, hands flailing to try and hit at the large beast’s head. He stared into large, blood-red eyes as he hit with all his might, but it didn’t help.

The sickening crunch of his ribs giving out under the pressure of the monster’s teeth would have made Peter scream out in agony, but his lungs filled quickly with blood, leaving him garbling and gagging on his own fluids.

More blood filled his mouth as his broken ribs tore into more of his organs, and slowly Peter’s arms lowered, the pain too crippling to keep up his fight.

As if the wolf was about to give him a small mercy, it unhinged its jaw, letting go of Peter’s torn up waist and looking at the boy as if it understood exactly what it was doing. As if it wanted to look him in the eye before he killed him, or before Peter succumbed.

It was dark out, but Peter’s vision was impossibly darker. His body shocked in its last efforts to try and keep himself alive, but he was rapidly bleeding out from the gaping wounds all over his body, his stomach torn and pouring his insides onto the dirty ground.

The wolf’s maw was red with Peter’s blood, its dark fur sticking to its chin. If Peter didn’t know any better, he would have thought that it grinned at him, right before it opened up its terrifying maw wide once more…

And with one final attack, the monster set its teeth into Peter’s throat, and abruptly ended Peter’s miserable life when it promptly snapped his neck.


End file.
